


girl next door

by wvlfqveen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Cuddling, F/F, the author sucks at titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wvlfqveen/pseuds/wvlfqveen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia nearly groaned as she stepped out of the elevator, gazing down at the cardboard boxes that littered the hallway in front of her apartment. New neighbours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	girl next door

**Author's Note:**

> i love being Gay and Girls Being Gay so here i am, back at it again with another girl pairing
> 
> except no smut this time. im still recovering from my first attempt. sorry
> 
> i love these two and i know teen wolf tends to queerbait but god. these two??????? i gotta go lie down
> 
> P.S. I FORGOT TO ADD THAT THIS IS AN AU TAKEN FROM THIS TUMBLR LIST http://brlseis.tumblr.com/post/121588080711

Malia nearly groaned as she stepped out of the elevator, gazing down at the cardboard boxes that littered the hallway in front of her apartment. New neighbours.

Malia never really got along with the people in this building. She was too weird, too young, too hard around the edges to be popular with this crowd of old people, who also hated her friends on principle. She’d almost ripped out Betty’s throat last week, the hag from the eleventh floor, for muttering about Scott to her equally awful husband just because he had been speaking some Spanish on the phone with his mom. The fucking audacity.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t leave. The rent was good for a nearly-downtown apartment in San Francisco and her adoptive dad refused to pay more. Malia was already stressed enough with uni tuition as it was.

She glanced in through the open door of the apartment across from her to gauge whether or not she needed to start being obnoxious and rude from the get go. Usually, all she had to do was have loud sex with someone from her friend group, or come home drunk, or both (bonus points if her partner was not a boy). Sometimes sober Stiles was enough.

The other residents on her floor had only managed to stay this long because the tenants beside her were gay and therefore, did not feel the need to gossip about Malia’s friends or who she was sleeping with, and the apartment at the end of the hallway was occupied by a young married couple, who were mostly at work all the time. They did have an annoying cat though.

She blinked at the sight in front of her. The person moving in was...not old.

They were probably in their 20s, like Malia, but from her angle all she could was a curtain of wavy, black hair as they were moving a box over into the kitchen. They were wearing tight black jeans and a blue, Wonder Woman t-shirt. Malia decided she liked their legs.

She leaned on the doorway. “Need help with these?” she asked. The person startled and straightened up.

They were, just like she had thought, around Malia’s age, with a brilliant smile and dark eyes that crinkled with the force of it as they looked at Malia standing in their door.

“Hi. Are you my neighbour?”, they asked, nodding at Malia’s apartment. She nodded and shook their outstretched hand. It was very soft and warm.

“Malia,” she said. That smile was making something bubble in her chest.

“Kira,” they said. “And I would like some help with that, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Malia nodded and pulled her leather jacket off after a brief moment of consideration, leaving it on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. She picked up a box labelled “washroom” and brought it in.

“You have some...uh, impressive arms,” Kira said. Malia looked down at them, in the process of picking up another box, and nearly flexed proudly before remembering how Stiles and Isaac had made douchebag jokes for days after she had done it in the club.

“Thanks, I’m studying to become a self-defense instructor,” she said instead, setting another box down in the washroom.

“Cool. I’m studying history.”

“SanFran State?” Malia asked, straightening up from her crouch by the door. Kira tucked a strand of hair behind their ear, like a nervous gesture.

“Yup. It might be a little, okay really, weird, but I really like history. And research. Mom jokes that I’m too much like my dad -he’s a history teacher- but he’s more of an American history buff, you know. I’m more like a mythology buff. Especially East Asian mythology, although my ancestry might have something to do with that you know, I grew up with all these legends my parents told me; Mom is Japanese, Dad is Korean, but- oh my god you really don’t care about any of this.”

Malia blinked. Kira had said all that in one breath. She smiled slowly.

“No, no, I care. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met in this building.”

Kira smiled, relieved. “Sorry, I tend to ramble a lot.”

“It’s fine,” Malia said. “I can handle it.”

“Cool,” Kira replied, bending down to reach for a box. “Hey, by the way, what are your pronouns? I’ve been referring to you as my cute neighbour in my head for some time now.”

“Cute, huh?” Malia teased. Kira blushed adorably; she grinned again. “She/her for me.”

“Cool,” Kira repeated, nodding. “Same.”

“Cool,” Malia echoed. Kira grinned.

* * *

 

To her utter disappointment, she didn’t see Kira often. They had different schedules. Kira studied history and worked part-time at an all-day daycare on top of that, while Malia went to college, worked at the gym, and went out with her friends. She brought Allison, Lydia, and even Stiles home a couple times, but she was never obnoxiously loud.

They waved and exchanged pleasantries with each other whenever they met in the lobby, the elevator or the hallway, but it never lasted long. Malia felt completely thrown off; usually she was much more forward than this and by now she would have at least gotten her number, but every time she saw her she felt her stomach knotting and her hands go clammy and-

“You’re a mess,” Stiles announced one day, exactly a month after Malia met Kira.

They were cuddling on Malia’s couch, watching one of those Star Wars movies Stiles loved so much. Malia couldn’t really keep up, too caught up in her thoughts, but that guy in the orange was cute.

“What,” Malia deadpanned, pretending to be absorbed in the movie. The good Stormtrooper guy was cute, too.

Stiles paused the movie and turned to her with a pointed look. She raised her eyebrows.

“You’re pining,” Stiles accused. Malia scoffed.

“I have no idea what-”

“Don’t lie to me, Malia Tate,” Stiles said. “I _know_ you and you’re _pining_ and I don’t understand _why_.”

Malia huffed, sitting up. Stiles turned his body completely to face her, crossing his legs.

“It’s just,” she started, unable to fully articulate what she was feeling “she’s so...she’s so nice,” she said finally. “She’s so nice, and kind, and a good person and she’s pretty and smart and adorably enthusiastic about everything and her smile probably breeds puppies or some shit and she’s...she’s everything I’m not.”

“First of all, woah there. I wasn’t expecting you to rant,” Stiles said, sticking his own tongue out as she stuck hers out at him. “Second, okay your smile doesn’t breed puppies because only a few people can do that, like Scott, Allison, and apparently Kira, and you’re not a bubbly person by nature, but you’re everything else.”

“I’m not nice. I’m not _good_.”

“You’re good _enough_ , period,” Stiles insisted quite forcefully, gazing at her as seriously as he could. “Do you understand me? You’re good enough. And you should let Kira also decide what’s good for her, you know.”

She blinked at him for a moment, taken aback by the force of his statement, then she hugged him tightly, putting her head in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know.”

She raised her head to glare at him. “Did you just fucking quote Star Wars?”

He grinned. “So you _have_ been paying attention. I fucking knew you would like these movies.”

“They’re okay. Han Solo is hot. And so is that guy,” she said, nodding at the screen.

He glanced at it, then snorted. “Of course, he is. Poe is played by Oscar Isaac.”

“Who?”

He rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Anyway, are you gonna ask Kira to come out with us tonight or what?”

“I wasn’t really planning on coming out tonight,” Malia confessed. “I think I’m getting my period.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Stiles said, raising a dubious eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s gonna be bad this time, I can feel it.”

He snorted. “Fine, the week is still young. It’s only Thursday.”

“Why are you even going out tonight? Don’t Scott and Isaac have that test they have been complaining about in like, two days?”

“Your point?” Stiles asked, getting up to go look for food in her kitchen.

She shook her head. “You’re right.”

“Well go ask her if she’s free this week at all or something. You guys can do something else.”

“Like what?” Malia asked, uncharacteristically nervous at the thought of asking Kira out.

God, she didn’t even know if Kira liked girls.

“Anything,” Stiles mumbled through a mouthful of a granola bar, coming back to sit on the couch again.

She pursed her lips. “Fine. What time is it?”

He glanced at his phone. “7:00.”

She got up hesitantly. Kira should be back from college by now. She only had classes in the morning today (she had asked, alright?!).

“You look beautiful,” Stiles cheered as she opened the door. “Eat her alive!”

“Shut up,” she hissed at him and closed the door on his face. She could hear him cackle.

She knocked on the door sharply and waited, jiggling her foot. She looked down at herself and groaned. She was wearing black sweatpants and an old Rolling Stones shirt she had cut into a sleeveless crop top herself. Her hair was probably a mess and her mascara and eyeliner were smudged around her eyes, having put both on this morning.

The door opened the Malia’s thoughts cut off immediately, stunned by the sight on the other sight of the threshold.

Kira was the actual opposite of Malia’s current state. She was wearing a tight, long-sleeve, plain black dress that went down over her knees and bunched up on the outer sides of her legs and black heels that showed off her graceful calves. She had a long, silver pendant of a curled up fox around her neck, and silver rings on her fingers. Her hair was curled and fell down her back, and her makeup attracted all attention to her eyes; it was dark and smoky, but not too much so, making her eyes seem intense and bold, and on top of that, she had red lipstick on. Her face was- what did Lydia call it- contoured, too, her cheekbones popping out even more than before.

And she smelled so good.

Oh, God.

“Malia! Hi!” Kira greeted, grinning. Malia had to subtly lean on the doorway for support.

“Hey, uh, going somewhere?”

“Oh yeah, you caught me on my way out; my coworker has invited a bunch of us out for dinner. It’s not too much, is it?” she asked anxiously, doing a turn for Malia to see her from every angle.

What had she done to deserve this?

“You look amazing,” Malia said truthfully. Kira blushed but grinned again.

“Thanks. Did you want something?” she asked, grabbing her black coat and purse from the hook behind the door, and stepping out to close and lock it. Malia stepped back and tried not to stare at her ass, with limited success.

“Actually, yeah, I...I was wondering if you’re free at all this week,” Malia said, managing to spit it all out in one go. Kira turned to her, putting her coat on in one smooth motion.

“I’m free Friday and Saturday night,” Kira said. She flipped her hair out from under her collar and Malia tried not to inhale like a creeper.

“Okay, cool, uh, do you- do you wanna go out?”

Kira tilted her head to the side and grinned gently. Malia’s heart seized in her chest. “You’re asking me out,” Kira stated in wonder.

“Yes,” Malia said simply, refusing to let her emotions show on her face.

“Finally,” Kira breathed, grinning.

“What?”

Kira stepped closer. “I was waiting for you to make a move for a month now, you know.”

“I didn’t," Malia stuttered, indignant, “I didn’t even know you liked girls.”

Kira smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. Malia’s brain stopped functioning for a second.

“I’m full of surprises,” Kira said, then handed her her phone. “Give me your number. I should have gotten it long ago.”

She put her number in Kira’s contacts, still a little dazed, and handed her the phone back. She put in her purse.

“Good,” Kira said. “I’ll see you later.”

The elevator door conveniently opened then, and Kira got in.

“Good timing,” Kira complimented, grinning. “Unlike us.”

The door closed and Kira was gone in a cloud of perfume and unexpected straightforwardness, leaving Malia behind dumbfounded.

What the fuck, she mouthed, and went back in her apartment.

* * *

Hours later, Malia startled awake, nearly falling off the couch. She must have dozed off after Stiles left. She sat up, confused and thirsty, and blinked into the darkness of the room.

Then she heard it; someone actually _sobbing_ outside her door. She glanced at it, willing herself to wake more. The sound was too heartbreaking to ignore so she got up slowly and walked to the door, opening it slightly.

She opened it fully, surprise overtaking her. It was Kira. She was sitting down in front of her own door, knees hugged to her chest. Her purse was thrown a few feet away from her, her coat was half off, and her hair looked like she had been pulling her fingers through it.

She knelt down in front of her. “Kira?”

Kira raised her head and Malia’s heart clenched painfully; tears streaky with mascara were still running down her cheeks, and her eyes were red. Her breath smelled like alcohol. She must have been drinking a bit.

Kira gave another sob and flung herself into Malia’s arms, holding onto her tightly.

“Hey, hey,” Malia said, startled, “what’s wrong?”

Kira just sobbed more loudly; Malia felt her shake her head. She got up, pulling Kira with her and bent down to get her purse.

“Come on,” she said softly, guiding the other girl into the apartment and onto the couch. She helped her take her coat off and Kira threw her shoes off herself. Malia cradled her against her chest as she cried.

“Sorry,” Kira hiccuped after a while. “I’m not usually the crying drunk.”

“It’s okay. What’s wrong?” Malia asked, caressing her head. Kira sighed, but didn’t move from her place in Malia’s arms.

“I’ve been feeling homesick lately, missing my parents. Thanksgiving is soon and they’ll have to be in Japan to see my grandma so I won’t see them and I just,” a sob escaped her; Malia held her more tightly “it’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Malia disagreed. “You love them.”

“Yeah,” Kira sniffled “I know it might seem kinda odd but we were always very close and I moved away last year but I’m... still not used to this.”

“I get it,” Malia said, although she really didn’t. After the accident that claimed her mother’s and sister’s lives her father had been distant at best. She didn’t even want to think about the disasters that were her biological parents.

“You can stay here tonight,” Malia decided, setting Kira back on the couch gently so she could get up to get her water. Kira whined slightly at the movement.

“No, no, I can’t just do that to you. I’m okay,” Kira said. She accepted the water without fuss.

“You’re not,” Malia stated as kindly as she could. She was trying to channel as much Scott as possible in her tone; she hoped it was working. “You’ll stay here. You don’t have work tomorrow or anything do you?”

“Day off from daycare,” Kira said, shaking her head.

“Good. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, no. Honestly I’m okay, I’m not even drunk anymore,” Kira argued, wobbling on her feet as she stood up.

“I said what I said.”

Kira scowled. “You’re not taking the couch.”

“You’re not either,” Malia insisted.

“Then we’ll both take the bed,” Kira said, crossing her arms and actually _pouting._ Malia tried not to smile.

“Fine,” Malia said. She took Kira’s glass and refilled it, then led her into the bedroom. She rummaged through her drawers for acceptable pajamas (usually she slept in her underwear and t-shirt, but she couldn’t give that to Kira) and finally flung an old, faded lacrosse shirt that once upon a time had been either Stiles’ or Scott’s, and a pair of cotton shorts at Kira on the bed. She pulled out a larger lacrosse t-shirt that had probably been Boyd’s and another pair of shorts and pulled off her own clothes to put them on.

When she turned back Kira was looking at her, dazed.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Malia teased, although she knew Kira wouldn’t do anything, especially in her state. She pulled the covers up and lied down on the other side.

Kira sighed. “Fine,” she whined. Malia grinned at her back as she undressed with some success. She averted her eyes; it felt like a violation to look at her while she was this sad.

“So,” Kira said, finally getting on the bed. “We’re just sleeping tonight.”

“Yes,”  Malia replied, heart thumping as she felt Kira lie down close beside her, body very warm under the covers.

“What about tomorrow?”

Malia tilted her head to look at her and grinned. “We’ll see.”

Kira smiled. “I can live with that,” she said, then yawned.

“Goodnight, Kira,” Malia said. Her breath hitched as Kira leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek softly.  

“Goodnight,” she whispered, then turned her back on her and pulled her arm around her waist. Malia aligned her body with hers gratefully, and smiled against her hair.


End file.
